


I Have Something to Show You

by feminismintensifies



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: M/M, i lied this is also not porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feminismintensifies/pseuds/feminismintensifies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you so excited for?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Something to Show You

“What are you so excited for?” Byungjoo asks, because Hansol’s got his wrist in a grip so tight he thinks it might be cutting off the blood flow to his hand as he gets practically dragged to the practice room in the basement. “This isn’t anything new, we always practice together after dinner.”

“I choreographed something and I want to show you,” Hansol replies, trying to sound nonchalant, but Byungjoo can hear the slight nervous shake in his voice. It’s so unlike him, in contrast with his near overly confident personality, that Byungjoo doesn’t question it.

Entering the practice room, only one set of lights is on, but that’s how it always is at this time of night and neither of them bother to turn on the rest of them. Byungjoo, instead of taking up his usual place of stretching in front of the mirror, sits in front of it and pulls out his phone, ready to record because that’s how it always works between them; when one of them has new choreography, the other records it and they review it together, an unspoken agreement between the two.

Hansol stretches out his limbs, trying to shake out the nerves that are tensing his muscles and making his gut churn. He was already here and determined not to back out of his plan, takes a deep breath and told himself not to let anxiety get the best of him.

Once he’s loosened his muscles properly, Hansol sets the music to play and Byungjoo begins recording. Hansol paces on his spot under the light, taking a drink from his water as he waits. He sets the bottle on the table and smoothes the wrinkles out of his pant legs before straightening and patting his hair down.

When the bass comes in, Hansol starts; his moves are sharp with the deep thump and fluid with the singer’s beseeching vocals with a careful and deliberate curve in his spine. He turns on the balls of his feet, hips canting forward with the snap of the snare before he turned the opposite way.

Byungjoo’s eyes follow as much of the movement as possible. Hansol’s dancing is oily, reminiscent of a feline, and absolutely enchanting. When he momentarily grabs a fist full of his shirt, Byungjoo nearly stops breathing, certain he would pull it up to reveal his stomach, but he relaxes when the shirt drops not a moment later.

Byungjoo gets caught up in the footwork, intricate and on point with the beat. Then, for a for a moment, the stop and Byungjoo watches Hansol’s hands, one trailing from his lower abdomen to his chest and pulling his shirt with it, and this time Byungjoo actually sees a flash of his toned stomach. He doesn’t know he’s biting his lip even has the shirt falls back into place and Hansol continues moving, rolling his shoulders and strutting forward.

The choreography takes an unexpected turn when Hansol’s legs spread and he drops lower and lower until he kicks slides his right leg to the left and rolls onto his back. Byungjoo’s breath is caught in this throat because Hansol’s spine is arched and hips thrust out. His hands run from his hips up, seemingly only to expose his abdomen again before reaching above his head as his hips thrust once again with the crack of the snare.

Byungjoo stops recording as Hansol sits up because it seems the choreography is over, but instead of standing Hansol gets on his hands and knees to slink towards him. Byungjoo holds his phone awkwardly in the air, unsure if he’s still supposed to be recording. If he is, this is probably the porniest choreography Hansol has ever come up with, and Byungjoo’s cheeks feel hot when he remembers Hansol nearly vibrating with excitement to show him this. 

When Hansol is so close that, had Byungjoo been recording, his face would be only thing visible in the frame, Byungjoo realizes that no, this isn’t part of the choreography. His heart is hammering in his chest and his stomach churns.

And then Hansol is crawling over his legs, one hand coming up to move Byungjoo’s phone aside as knees settling on either side of his hips. The music is still playing but blood is rushing so loud in Byungjoo’s ears he almost can’t hear it.


End file.
